


Golden Ribbons

by crestedhearts (orphan_account)



Series: Red Strings (Sephiroth) [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:35:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24349627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crestedhearts
Summary: The continuation of 'A Little String'.You meet Cloud and Tifa. An assassin enters your shop. Sephiroth appears. Nothing is what it seems.
Relationships: Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII)/Reader
Series: Red Strings (Sephiroth) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757899
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





	Golden Ribbons

**Author's Note:**

> I got excited and wrote this even though it was supposed to be published tomorrow. Oh well. Enjoy! Feel free to make requests for characters and scenarios!

YOU KEPT THE FEATHER, for no other reason than pure sentimentality. It wasn't often that people left such an impression on you, much less one so strongly and embedded in your mind. Most of the reason was that that man, Sephiroth, had allowed you for a very brief, minuscule moment, to see through your own eyes again instead of seeing the vast expanse of black you had been experiencing for the past decade or more.

You strung it up on pretty beads that Aerith had sorted for you and attached it to a small leather cord that you kept at your waist to hold your small pouch of potions and money, a sort of good luck charm. It felt like a primary flight feather, judging by the length and thickness of it, but you couldn't be too sure without consulting a textbook, which was a rare find even in normal text, much less braille.

The odd thing you noticed as you went on about your life, a few weeks after that odd meeting with Sephiroth the SOLDIER, was that you could see again--only a little bit, in flashes or small glances out of your peripheral vision that grew more vivid by the day. Your rational mind told you that Sephiroth had done something to you, had fixed something while he meddled with your sight; the more hopeful side of you, the one that wasn't necessarily logical and fueled by the heart, wanted you to believe that maybe your disease was getting better, becoming less aggressive.

But it was only a fool's hope and an idiot's dream. Your disease, or, perhaps, you should refer to it as an accident more often, was not something that went away by itself, if at all. It was aggressive, tearing through the neural pathways in your eyes faster than your body could even attempt to replace it, forcing your body to wall off the connections of your brain and eyes. At least, that was the scientific explanation of what was going on with you; Aerith thought of it more as a blockage of the spirit, a dam holding in negative thoughts.

Whatever it was that had made you this way, by the hand of the scientist or sheer dumb luck, you were stuck with it. Other than the small glimpses of sight that you cherished whenever they popped up, even if it was when you were sitting on a toilet, you would never see completely ever again. You had made peace with that fact, had known for a long time that it was an inevitability.

It still never stung less when people regarded you as inferior or weaker the moment they realized you were blind. You could knock a man flat out just as well as the next guy, but no one would ever think that; all they saw was a girl without muscle, running a tea shop in the nicer part of the slums, and bumbling her way through life.

So when Aerith finally caved and decided to introduce you to Cloud and Tifa, you were excited. She had told you that Cloud was a bit closed off and reserved, Tifa somewhat guarded but friendly, however she assured you that she told them you were nothing but a nice woman who needed friends.

In no simple terms, Aerith was insinuating you were a lonely, single woman who needed more contacts in her life in case she needed help.

Even if it was true, you had no time for dilly dallying. The three of them would be visiting the shop after it had closed and you had little over an hour to get it presentable and somewhat clean before then. It was already halfway there, but it needed a little sprucing up in some areas, so you attempted to dust everything to the best of your capabilities.

You heard the door open behind you and instinctively turned around, mouth open to greet the person walking through the doorway, but all you saw was white. Flashes of blonde hair. Mako green eyes. A sword longer than you were tall. A stern grimace to his mouth, as if permanent. SOLDIER.

"Uh, [Name]? Is that right? Aerith sent me ahead to help you pack up the tables for the evening."

Your brain stuttered unhelpfully for a moment, immediately drawing parallels to who you knew now was Cloud, and Sephiroth. He was a SOLDIER. What in Gaia's name was Aerith doing, being friends with a SOLDIER, knowing that it attracted scrutiny that she didn't need?

"Thank you," you said instead, holding back the floodwaters of incredulity brimming within your head. "Can you start with the corner tables and work outwards, please? I need to sweep up the crumbs and dust from today."

"Sure."

As the male moved past you to get to the corner tables, you subtly sussed out his aura, shuddering at the icy feel of it. While the resemblances were there, the Mako just barely brushing the surface, it ended at just that, the surface. Cloud's aura was rife with turmoil and indecision, almost to the point where you would have preferred Sephiroth's stifling presence to his any day.

You continued sweeping, mumbling a thank you every time he moved out of your way to allow you to sweep under his feet.

This dance continued until Tifa and Aerith arrived some thirty minutes later, relieving you of the stress of Cloud's aura somewhat. You could have cried; theirs were so soft and pliant that you could have just lied on the floor and fell asleep even with Cloud looming over you like a thunderstorm.

You spoke with them well into the night, far longer than you should have, and by the time Aerith was forcing them to leave and let you sleep, it was nearly two in the morning. And yet, for some reason, you were energized, completely awake even as you yawned yourself to tears and felt your body respond sluggishly to your commands.

As a last resort, you headed downstairs, intent on making chamomile tea to ease your energetic mind, when you felt it; the barest sensation of an aura brushing against yours, so close that you could taste the malice radiating off of them.

Of all the people you could have been expecting, Sephiroth jumped to the forefront of your mind; but this aura, this malice, was not his. It wasn't even remotely familiar to you. Not even the voice, when it spoke, had the same cadence to it.

"[Name] [Surname]." You recognized the voice as that of an assassin, cleverly disguised as that of a man's. "By the order of--"

There was a hard grunt, the sound of metal sliding through flesh and bone, and the assassin falling to the floor. You were frozen to the spot, unable to move, eyes trained on your feet where you felt blood starting to pool and stick between your toes. You had felt their dying breath against your hair, ruffling it slightly.

While you had caused death many times, this, for some reason, made you feel sick to your stomach.

When your legs have out and your feet slipped in slick, warm blood, hands reached out and caught you, devoid of a weapon. They wrapped around your shoulders tightly, propping you up against a body coated in leather and what felt like hard metal or plastic. But you knew the aura, felt it as keenly as night or day.

Sephiroth.

"Are you alright?" His tone was surprisingly concerned, laced with a heavy dose of irritation. None of the neutrality from weeks before was there.

"I'm… fine." You swallowed the gasp of fear that might have made its way out. "Just… I need to sit… sit down."

Sephiroth carefully guided you to one of the chairs Cloud hadn't put up, lifting you over what you assumed was the body in your way. He stayed quiet for several moments, allowing you to regain your bearings, and for the entirety of that time, lingered just outside your sensing field, never quite touching you.

When you recovered enough to manage complete sentences, you slumped back in your chair and tried to will away that uncomfortable twist in your gut that something wasn't right.

"It's almost two in the morning," you said tiredly, that burst of energy and adrenaline fading as quickly as nightfall. "How did you even know?"

"I was almost certain I didn't make it in time." Sephiroth made no move towards her. "I didn't know. It was a hunch. I'm glad I was correct."

You rubbed your forehead, bringing your face down into your palms. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Not much does, these days."

The blood between your toes felt sticky under the socks. You wiggled them slightly to dislodge the coagulated material, sighing when that ill feeling finally receded and you could breathe again.

"So." You looked in his general direction, hoping you at least were looking at his face. It was hard to tell. "I'm not going to ask about this hunch of yours. I won't. I don't think I could stomach it."

"Perhaps not."

"And… I… Why are you here? There's no reason for you to have saved me. None at all."

The tea shop fell silent. All you heard outside was the faint tinkling of windchimes and the occasional dog barking down the road.

"There are plenty of reasons," Sephiroth said, his tone impossibly gentle,"but only one truly matters."

You were growing drowsy, but pushed forward. "What do you mean? Tell me."

"A piece of knowledge for another day, I think." Sephiroth watched as your eyes fluttered shut, watched as the red threads tangled around your fingers and heart began turning a steady golden orange. Just a little bit more. "Sweet dreams."

When you woke up in your own bed, forehead tingling as if someone had kissed it, another feather in your palm and the light of dawn filtering through the window, you realized: you could see.

Your sight was back.


End file.
